To long, to many days, to many months, and yet in all that time so little change, so little difference in the surrounding and life, but perhaps to much change of heart and to much change, and like all things it's bad in surplus and worse in a lack of, but in moderation it's good, everyday the world turns and the infinitely expanding universe grows, while balls of plasma burn and water flows, while our lives and what we do don't matter, in the end we die and we're forgotten, no extravagant stories that last forever, our lives are like a good songs short lived and shortly forgotten, but we strive and prosper because we're egotistical idiots with a sense of self worth that comes and goes, but it's been to long sense it was constant, we're all put down and made to do better because no matter what we're imperfect beings
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Short and Sweet
Short StoryShort and Sweet, Just Like You, That's How I'll Write These.